D-Day 1 let me in on my husband's secret affair. D-Day 2 filled in the questions unanswered after D-Day 1. It wasn't one affair but dozens. It wasn't one woman but many. It hadn't started a few years ago, it spanned our entire relationship.
You, more than most, can imagine my shock.
Like those of you who responded to the post on multiple affairs, I thought I was married to a monster. Who could do such a thing? Who could build their entire marriage on a lie? What the hell had I got myself into and how was I going to get myself out?
Nights were the worst. I had no names or faces to attach to these new affair partners and so I was left with some shadowy imaginings. Of course, they were all sexy, young, vibrant. (The truth, according to my husband, is that they were all sad, middle-aged and desperate.)
As I've explained before on this site, I stayed mostly because I lacked the energy to leave. I had three young children and if the marriage was over, I wanted to be sure it was TRULY over. I didn't want to disrupt their lives until I was sure. And I wasn't sure about much in those early days post D-Day.
But what I want to say to those of you reeling from your own discovery of multiple partners is this: Though what your husband did seems monstrous, it helps you in absolutely no way to see him as a monster. In fact, if you're even considering trying to rebuild a marriage, it will help you much more to recognize that his monstrous behaviour is the outward expression of his own pain.
Yes, I know. Nobody wants to hear that. Our infidelity culture is built on the idea that only assholes cheat. That a good guy would never do such a thing. And I have taken many slings and arrows from the chump tribe who will not entertain the notion that, sometimes, good people do horrible things.
And though I wanted to believe that, I knew it wasn't true. I had seen good people do bad things for much of my life. I had a mother with multiple addictions. I watched her get sober. And make amends for so much of the pain she'd caused. Did I owe her that second chance? No. I don't think any of us here on this site owe anyone a second chance. Second chances are gifts. Second chances are mercy. Writer Anne Lamott puts it this way: "...the beauty of living from your merciful heart instead of your ticker-tape brain — judgmental brain — is the way home. It’s the way to peace, the way to feeling safe and connected. It’s all the things we long for.”
The way home. The way to peace. The way to feeling safe and connected. Isn't that we're going for? It requires a radical change in how we see infidelity and those who cheat. It requires us to challenge the idea that this person who betrayed us so profoundly is a "monster". That he is beyond redemption.
Mercy – a second chance – is hard. And yet, I think we're hard-wired for it. Until we become brittle from bracing for hurt.
Our challenge, and it is a formidable one, is to remain soft in the wake of the betrayal. To not just consider mercy for those who betray us but to absolutely ensure we give it to ourselves. That we forgive ourselves for not knowing. That we remind ourselves that we are and have always been enough. That we didn't deserve this.
One commenter asks: "How do such monsters exist and in what world can I ever have the powers to get over such a betrayal?"
To which I reply: I see his actions as monstrous, his pain as monstrous but not him as monstrous. I suspect he too see his actions and pain as monstrous. I suspect he's as baffled as you about how he was able to betray you so deeply. And it is his job to determine how he did that and to ensure he learns tools that will prevent him from ever doing it again. The power to get over such a betrayal is within mercy. It was only when I could acknowledge my husband's pain that I could begin to view him with compassion instead of contempt. It was when I could view him with compassion that I could see myself with compassion. That I could forgive myself for not knowing better, for not choosing differently.
Mercy, as Lamott says, is the way home.
I felt this more than I was expecting. It has taken me all of my strength to get to the point where I even understand that I have to first forgive myself before I can forgive my spouse. There is still some work to do with that piece though. What really hit home is the realization that my spouse IS a good person who did a bad thing. My spouse is NOT MY ENEMY. As long as she is willing to do the work to find out what got us here, I am willing to go along for the ride. 2nd chances are a blessing we must NEVER miss out on.
ReplyDeleteEvery word you wrote is the truth. Begin with your own healing. Treat yourself with radical compassion, which will then extend outward.
DeleteThis is so well written. I can still feel the horror and disgust post D day and the CONFUSION too. It was mind boggling knowing the good in my husband, the man I saw everyday, the man he wanted to be vs. the man he was when he left the house. Who was he really? Who knew him? Was it his two AP’s or me? Ultimately, I realized he was all of his deeds. The good ones and the bad ones. And admittedly, his sins were heinous, but his goodness was still greater than his bad. He went to great lengths to never let me see the ugly, cheating side of him. That was the only side the other women saw and once he finally mustered the courage to face his demons and kick that horrible side of him to the curb they went too. That is also how I lost the shame. Why we have shame for being faithful and loving is an entire other mystery, but I sure did. But, I did lose the shame realizing that I never “put” up with anything. When I discovered his betrayals, I put my foot down. The other women happily shared a man that treated her like shit for years. They were never a priority and somehow that was enough for their brokenness. That is their shame, not mine. Ultimately, I realized that I did not want my worst acts in life to define me and I would try to extend that grace to my husband. And then the shame of staying developed. Again... why do we do this to ourselves? Ugh../ we need to stop. It helped to realize that there is no shame in staying, offering grace, and forgiveness. I didn’t do it for him. I did it for me. I took time and realized that it was what was best for me and what I wanted. It was what would make me happiest. There is no shame in that. I offered Grace for me and when I am feeling down it helps to remind myself that I am strong, I know what I want, I know what I will accept, and I know I am enough. His affairs were his problem, not mine. And in the end, I would prefer the pain of betrayal Over the weight of guilt he must carry forever.
ReplyDeleteSv,
DeleteWow. So much of what you wrote hit me between the eyes. That shame can feel debilitating. And it exists within our culture of intolerance for infidelity, this conviction that cheaters are irredeemable. I've said it a thousand times -- our cultural conversation around infidelity lacks nuance. It allows only victims and villains. Taking time to choose the path that is right for you is the most empowering thing you can do.
Dday 1 was back in October 2019. My partner shared with me that he was bisexual and had physical one night stands with four different men. Dday 2 came a month later when he confessed that he had been seeing another woman since September. Through many discussions and revelations, we decided to move forward with several conditions in place. Complete honesty (I know, I still struggle with what this actually means at this point), and transparency with all forms of communication.
ReplyDeleteWe are in a better place than we were even before the infidelities. Our communication is much stronger than it ever was and I believe that we are both striving for a healthy, strong relationship.
My current struggle is that I didn't protect myself emotionally after the affair(s). I'm disappointed with myself for not immediately insisting on no contact with the affair partner. He was in a fog for a couple of months and did not give up his communication with her during that time. He was severely depressed and suicidal. My gut instinct was to set aside my own pain and to put him first. It seemed logical although very painful for me at the time but now I struggle with my own weakness. I'm not sure how to forgive myself for this. I'm feeling shame about my own actions which in hindsight, seem very weak. How do I forgive myself for this?
Anonymous,
DeleteI'm so sorry for the pain you're in. And what you're experiencing is similar for a lot of us -- the details might vary but it comes down to shame around our inability to set clear, healthy boundaries in the immediate wake of betrayal. But what we often forget is just how destabilizing those early days are. We are, often literally, in shock. We are digesting news that has blindsided us. Imagine a friend telling you exactly what you've written here. Would you react with blame? Would you ask her why she didn't put her foot down? I suspect not. Given you concern for your husband's well-being, I suspect you would respond with compassion and empathy. I suspect you would encourage her to be gentle with herself, to realize that she has been through a trauma and that we respond to trauma differently.
And then try to apply that same compassion to yourself. Betrayal is trauma. It affects our bodies and our brains. Some of us go numb. Some of us fall to pieces. There is no "right" way to deal with this.
In fact, I applaud your ability to be clear-headed around setting boundaries and to understand that they may have to be revisited according to what's working for you or not. But recognize that there is so much pain there that you are just beginning to process. And treat yourself like you would a good friend.
Thank you Elle.
DeleteYour words of kindness and empathy touched me deeply. Thank you for the reminder of what my mindset was during this time. I was in shock and felt like I was floating most days with no place to land. I recently was mentally picking myself apart from a place of hindsight. I now realize that did the best that I could and I'm very grateful for the nudge to treat myself with love.
You’ve made me cry. And given me a way to move forward❤️❤️❤️
ReplyDeleteI didn't mean to make you cry!! When you're ready, please tell us what helped you see a path forward. Because I think a lot of us feel exactly like you. Stuck. With no clear path. Only shitty and shittier and choices. So it's valuable to help each other see that's not true.
DeleteBeen wondering your thoughts on CN, as I recently came across CL's site for the first time. Some of her practical tips at protecting one's self have been helpful, but the tone of her posts and many of the comments have full-on discouraged me. Made me question my choice to stay. Husband has been remorseful from the moment affair was discovered, attends therapy and recovery group, reads books/articles, all the things. But of course I wonder if it's all an act. He deceived everyone he knows for a good two years, why wouldn't he be deceiving us now? We also have 22 years of marriage - what felt like a solid, stable marriage (to me anyway) - three kids, and lots of laughs together. Seems like a lot to give up. But then I read CL's posts and feel like a dolt for not leaving him. What I love about you, Elle, and the community here, is how you push for care and healing of SELF above all else. And you do it in a way that is graceful and kind. Maybe the marriage holds, maybe it doesn't, but either way, you tell us we can survive and be okay. And I believe you. I can absolutely see that CL has a way of empowering "chumps". It's also difficult to not feel shamed and confused by her notions that cheaters are irredeemable.
ReplyDeleteJana, Early on, I discovered CL and posted something about extending understanding to those of us who are thinking of staying. I felt crucified by the responses. And I didn't get it. Weren't we all part of the same club? Didn't they understand that I was in pain too, even if I was hoping to rebuild my marriage?
DeleteI, too, think CL offers something valuable to some people. But it feels a wee bit cult-like when there's no room for different points of view. And yes, I felt stupid for believing my husband capable of redemption. It undermined the faith I needed to believe that a different marriage was possible. I'm aware that CL is childless and I can't help but think that's a critical factor in her worldview. When you're making a decision that will affect more than just yourself, you tend to consider things differently. As you put it, "it's a lot to give up."
So yes, I approach the stay/go question differently here because, honestly, I don't know what's right for the people who come here. I don't know who's husband will cheat again and who will reform himself. I just don't know. What I do know is that each of us can find her strength and her courage and her self-respect to move forward in whatever way feels right for her. And that's empowering. To make a choice based not on what some stranger on the internet thinks I should do but what I think I should do.
Anonymous you need to be kinder to yourself, yes your husband was also in pain but he caused himself and you this pain. I am also coming to terms with trying to not see him as just the affair that he is actually a human who made a mistake, it’s terrible and so confronting and hard but we can get past it. The ways I am being kinder to myself is taking time for me, reading a lot! Taking long baths and meditatating and really talking and communicating with him. I no I still haven’t forgiven him and it’s been about 7 months but it all takes time to heal.
ReplyDeletehello, I’ve been following this page since my own DDay 7 months ago. I’ve decided to finally ask for advice on something that has been bothering me every single day. How much do I need to know? In the case of multiple affairs and one night stands, and in the interest of healing my marriage? How much information should I ask for? I’ve chosen to know very little, as I know I cannot unknow things. But the made up mind movies are Daily and excruciating. I can’t seem to get past them. Any advice is welcome.
ReplyDeleteDustyKan, I understand this dilemma all too well. I was in the need to know camp in the beginning and asked for details I wish now I never knew. That being said the unknowing allows for a creative and painful imagination. Eventually I made a “system” so to speak with myself. When/if my mind would develop a question and then subsequently create a horror film to answer it I tucked it away for 2 days. Most often it would go away on its own ( without me remembering it or the two days) when my confidence reappeared and my mood improved. When the thoughts do/did not leave after two days I address it with husband. It always starts with “I need to ask you something because my brain is playing it like this and I need the real scene”. I see his face tense up, but he steps up, answers them in as much detail as I want to know and life goes on. He has asked me several times if I am sure I want the painful truth before he proceeds. Usually the truth is a G rated version of what my mind created. It’s definitely a balancing act ... There is a fine line between knowing too much and not knowing enough and that line is different for us all.
DeleteDustyKan, I'm glad you found us and kudos to you for reaching out. I know it can feel a bit scary. But you are among those who know your pain. (And, incidentally, I moderate comments so that I can filter out spam so it can sometimes take 24 hours or so before you see your comment posted, depending on my busy-ness).
DeleteMy first question is: Do you have a good therapist to help you process this? If not, I would urge you to find one. Betrayal is devastating and it can be life-saving to have an objective person guide you through it.
Secondly, certain behaviours such as writing down my questions but reviewing them before asking my husband through a lens of "do I really want to know?" or picturing a huge red STOP sign when my mind would wander to mind movies helped me a lot. Or putting an elastic band around your wrist and giving it a good snap (enough to cause discomfort) when you start imagining things and having activities in place that you can do to, again, distract you. Going for a walk/run, picking up a good book, watching TV, calling a friend. Anything healthy that keeps your mind occupied can help. They will fade with time. A lot of what I ended up knowing, I've forgotten. Ultimately, a lot of what we imagine really doesn't matter. Pretty or not? Who cares? Young or older? Who cares? What matters is that he cheated because there was something wrong with him that he is, hopefully, working to fix.
I may be in the extreme need to know camp, but when I learned my H had been having one night stands for 10 years, the things I imagined were so extreme and my H so muted by shame that I realized that I needed to know everything. His actions went on so long that they were really a whole other secret life, and I knew I could not continue an emotional life with someone who had another life. We ended up doing a series of disclosure sessions with our marriage counselor, who helped us pace things so neither of us got overwhelmed. It was very tough, but after the last of these sessions I felt for the first time like there was a chance we could move forward together. In part, I needed to witness my husband verbalizing his behavior and really facing it in front of me. He was such a compartmentalizer and rationalizer that I knew this was what would really, finally drive home for him how destructive his behavior was. We are all different, but for me this was a step that was very important.
ReplyDeleteI don't see my ex as a monster. I intellectually understand him better than anyone else- his behaviors have nothing to do with me, he's not even thinking of me because he is so stuck on his pains and how to lessen them temporarily. I understand that the 40+ women and couples he's been with sexually have nothing to do with looks or money or my inadequacies or my existence- they were available and willing to do the acts. I understand that the woman he's with now, who he bought a house with earlier this year a month after he proposed to her has nothing to do with her looks or income or any feelings of connection or love. It is because she does not hold him accountable like I did, she does not know his numerous issues, and she is not as smart or aware as me so he can work less at continuing to have sexual encounters because of his sex addiction.
ReplyDeleteI get it. Despite finding out about his next encounter on our honeymoon 6 years ago, I stayed and supported him as I worked on me because he said he wanted us to work out and he'd do the work and be transparent. Well, he lied. He lied about doing the work, he lied about being honest (he got another, secret phone to show me it was clean, he lied about needing another year of school to finish his MBA to get time from me, he bought a new laptop and hid it to avoid having it locked down by his "accountability partner" who I never met, etc).
Intellectually I know why he's behaving this way. I know this has nothing to do with me and it's all about his deep pain and sexual abuse in his childhood.
And yet when I found him talking to his long-term, multi -year girlfriend while we were visiting my parents it broke me yet again. And I STILL gave him a chance because he said he'd go to inpatient, and in reality he was still seeing HER and stringing me along with the inpatient BS. Within a month of me finally ending it he proposed to her, and the next month they closed on a house...a mile from where he and I used to live. I live alone in a short-term lease apartment, he has our pets and won't share custody, and I feel like he's "winning."
It's easy to fool someone who's honest, and he did that to me so much. I wanted him to be like so many other cheating spouses who are remorseful and repentant, and he just pretended to be, for 5 years. He fooled me and our therapists. He said cruel things to me last winter, like "I've never been faithful to you for our entire relationship," "I wanted to find someone who didn't know about my addiction," "I shouldn't have to sacrifice for a relationship," etc. Forcing him to leave mentally and emotionally within me is the hardest thing I will ever do in my life, and what makes it doubly hard is that the one who hurt me and abused me this much doesn't even care to try to help me through it. He's not sorry because he still doesn't see me even after he "ran over" me innumerable times. It would mean so much to me if he could give me a heartfelt apology, and I am trying to move on knowing that it will never ever come from him.
And yes, he's repeating himself with his fiance- he's never stopped cheating with HER either (a fellow spouse support group member was matched and briefly spoke with him on an online dating site).
Multiple betrayals usually have a deep root, and they are also a sign that it's going to take a lot to truly turn their life around- that infamous "rock bottom."
I wish the best of luck to everyone else is going through this, and I hope your story ends better than mine, whatever better means for you. And I caution, based on my experience: do not believe any words they say. Words are worth their weight in gold. That is to say, they are worthless. Look at their actions.
-brokenhearted
-brokenhearted,
DeleteI am so so sorry for the pain you've been through the deep betrayal he inflicted on you. Yes, it's undoubtedly about him and his pain but it's pain he transmitted to you rather than deal with himself.
I hope you will shed yourself of him. (As a pet owner myself, I'm sure that part is devastating too.) I hope you will take some time in therapy to sort through why you gave him so many chances and how you can remain open emotionally while still having clear healthy boundaries. You deserve everything good, brokenhearted.
Thank you. I am working hard with a therapist 2x week to start to heal the damages he inflicted. As my therapist said, to get that sincere, remorseful, empathic apology from him will first take him years of work. His multiple mental issues of narcissism, sex addiction, pathology, and personality disorder make it very likely he will not ever truly try to help himself. I feel awful for him, but that is his choice ultimately. I am moving on. I am not the same person I was when we first met, and I will never be that person again, but I can be someone new.
DeleteAnd there is a part of me still waiting for when they break up. I know he'll just repeat his pattern with the next woman, but at least he won't have cheated on me with her. The woman he's with now HAD to have known, and I despise her for that co-conspiracy.
And they have my pets! :(
-brokenhearted
D-Day for me has been a little over three months... the Friday before Mother's Day. He has apologized for that too. I would have never thought this would happen to me.... H is such a good person. H had been acting strange for several months leading up to DDay, crying, couldn't sleep or eat - I assumed a midlife crisis. That Friday his job was cancelled and came home. My 7yo and 8mo girls were upstairs so I was able to meet him outside. He instantly dropped to his knees and begged for forgiveness and for me not to leave. I knew right there he had cheated... my heart just bottomed out. His acts haven't been recent but almost 12 years ago before our girls. We had only been married for 5 years... just built a beautiful house. I wanted to start a family, he didn't. I wanted to finish up the house, he didn't. I told him looking back - you just gave up on us. Now I know why! He was flirting and touching with the office woman who was 15 years older than him. They had worked together for years. Apparently she had a reputation of flirting with the guys at work. He complimented her one day that she looked nice, and she apparently told him she had thoughts of them being together. I told him right then, you just opened up the door to her. They flirted, touched, kissed, and attempted BJ. Apparently they had planned to meet up at her house but he chickened out, and she was furious. It was over with them after that. After the failed attempt, he ended up going to massage parlors and hooked on porn. He told me everything... 1 time PA, 1 BJ and 3-4 HJs. He said he was so ashamed that he couldn't believe he did all that. I still can't believe it. H says it has nothing to do with me but it was all him and he was the problem.
ReplyDeleteI have just recently found your blog. Your posts and comments are so helpful. Mercy and Grace is what I hold onto right now.
I'm so glad you found us. My husband responded much like yours. He feel completely apart. His life had become unmanageable and he was in so much pain. I was able to say that I would be his friend as he got help. And then, as I watched him change, my love for him and my respect grew again. But that's my path. You get to choose your own. Take care of yourself. That's your main job.
DeleteHow do you stop feeling so stupid?
ReplyDeleteYour question is breaking my heart. And I'm going to write an entire blog post in response. But, in short, you remind yourself that loving is not stupid, it's courageous. You remind yourself that trusting is not stupid, it's beautiful. You tell yourself as many times as you need to hear it that your job isn't to always be right but to learn. That when we know better, we do better. I suspect you are hard on yourself in many ways and that makes my heart hurt. You are worthy of love, you are worthy of respect. You deserve to take up space. You matter simply because each of us matters. But you must talk back to that voice that tells you otherwise. It is lying to you.
DeleteUnknown,
DeleteI feel the same way.... Elle your responses are so thoughtful.
Re feeling stupid. This one kills me. And the idea that they must know how stupid I was being. I sent him out there over and over again. I knew when he was seeing them. I just trusted him. I couldn’t imagine it.
ReplyDeleteBut. When I look back now, I can see that I was purposefully turning away from the truth. And sometimes I can remember why. I was pregnant. He was a good father. My life was, and is, better with him than without, because as someone said above he did always give me the better side. So I purposefully ignored the problem, I know now. After all, I doubt there was anything I could have done about it. He cheated because he hated himself, and I never would have been able to convince him otherwise. It happened the way it had to happen. I think it was my openness to staying (if he got TONS of therapy) that finally convinced him I did love him, and that there was something to hope for.
Sometimes we are doing all we could have done. I think usually we are doing all we could have done. But yes, this one kills me too. I would like to hear Elle’s take on it.
Anonymous,
DeleteWe do the best we can. Even when our best, in hindsight, kinda looks like it sucks. We are a product of everything that's happened to us. In my case, having grown up in a dysfunctional home with addiction and a mother who attempted suicide many times, I had absorbed the lesson that I wasn't worth sticking around for. And yeah, I'd had lots of therapy and had intellectually understood that my mother's pain wasn't about my worth but her belief in her own (or lack of), none of that mattered when I learned of my husband's cheating. That old belief woke up from wherever it had been sleeping and said, "Oh, yes! He cheated because you are not worth sticking around for." And so I fell to my knees and struggled for months and months before I rediscovered my self-worth and made my own healing a priority.
Did that make me stupid? For believing a man who told me he loved me, that he would never hurt me? I don't think so. Was I stupid because, even when I absolutely did not trust HER I trusted HIM? Maybe.
But so what? Yeah, I missed some signs. Yeah, I ignored a little voice in my head that was sending out an alarm. Yeah, I believed friends who, when I asked if THEY thought I should worry absolutely scoffed. "With her?" they laughed. "No way."
Well...we were all wrong. And maybe all stupid. But anyone who would mock me for that, for trusting my husband, for believing that he was better than he was, is an ass. Anyone who would laugh at someone's trust, who would take delight in contributing to another's pain isn't even worth the effort it takes to hate them.
And so I refuse to see myself as stupid as much as I forgive myself for not knowing better at the time. Seeing yourself as stupid is a choice. There are many of us who don't see ourselves as stupid at all but rather conned, duped, lied to. Many don't take responsibility at all for another person's bad behaviour but place it squarely where it belongs -- on the cheater.
Stupid? Nope. Not me. I am loyal, I am loving, I am forgiving, I am trusting. One thing I absolutely am not is stupid. Neither are you.
Thank you Elle for always saying exactly the right things in the right way. The wise advice, reassurances, and cheering on you offer in your posts is worth years of private therapy ❤️
DeleteThe "feeling stupid" is one of my biggest struggles about reconciling. I've worked very hard to heal and feel proud of who I was in my marriage and accept that I was NOT stupid for loving and trusting my H FULLY. There is nothing wrong projecting your own loyal and trustworthy behaviour on others, if they've never given you reason to believe otherwise about them, right? I continuing to love and support him in his own healing as we pick up the pieces and try to rebuild (again, because what I see him showing me allows me to offer grace and compassion). However,...I know those in our life who know our story (friends, family) don't REALLY get how complicated infidelity is, both its occurrence and the healing from it. Just as I had no real understanding before it happened to me.
Despite the love and support that has been extended to me, I struggle with the shame thinking I'm being judged for my choice to stay and feel worried that, if it happens again, my support network will roll their eyes and say "well, what did you expect?". I know we can't know what the future holds, but it definitely hinders my ability to live vulnerably when there is still a voice in the back of your head saying....are you SURE he's telling the truth this time?
No, I'm not sure. But based on what I see my husband doing, I'm choosing to love and work on trusting him again. I'm happy that this is who I am, it's just going to take more time for the hurt and grief to stop clouding my self-compassion.